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2015-08-02
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1/1
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Faith Will Find A Way

Summary:

They paid attention during Tommy's video history, so they know that it's not Trent's fault he's evil. So the Dino Rangers are going to do something about it. Oneshot.

Work Text:

Kira plonks her tray down next to him at lunchtime, then turns and hands Trent a sandwich.

                Trent, for the record, does not want to be in school. He’s only attending because his father found him and said either Trent could spend the day in school, or arguing with Mesegog, because his father didn’t feel well. So he’s not entirely sure why Kira is sitting next to him.

                Ethan and Conner follow a second later and surround him.

                …If this is an attack, it’s a really crappy one. They’re sitting on top of a picnic table, for crying out loud. Ethan’s back is almost touching his. Conner is taking a bite of his sandwich. Kira is staring at him with something weird in her eyes.

                “So,” Ethan finally says, “You get that last level of ShipSplosion yet?”

                “…No?” Trent manages.

                “You should, it’s fun!” Conner says with his mouth full. “Boom!”

                “Don’t talk with your mouth full, Conner.” Kira says. She nudges Trent. “Eat that. You look hungry.”

                Trent stares at the sandwich. Then at Kira. “I tried to kill you an hour ago.”

                “Yeah, but you’ve lost it, so it’s not your fault.” Ethan says cheerfully. “Listen to Kira. She can kick your ass out of morph.”

                Conner snorts. “Any of us can kick your ass out of morph, dude, you look like crap.”

                “Thanks.” Trent drawls. “Really.”

                Kira takes the sandwich, unwraps it, and forces it into Trent’s hand again.

                Trent gives up and takes a bite, raising an eyebrow at her.

                Kira smiles and leans against him.

                Trent looks for hidden cameras. There are none.

                But hey, it’s a good sandwich.

 

*             *             *

 

“GET HIM!”

                That is actually the only warning Trent gets before he’s, well, tackled by three flying Rangers. He goes down in the least graceful way possible.

                Trent’s brain is screaming energy, screaming so loud Trent almost expects the sheer force of his power to shoot them off, but it doesn’t work that way. He just ends up…crushed.

                “Got him!”

                “Teamwork! Suck it!”

                “Conner, be nice.” Kira scolds that last one, and grabs his morpher wrist. “Okay. Hayley said the button’s on here…”

                Trent tries to shake her off. It emphatically does not work. Conner transfers some weight to Trent’s shoulder, actually, which is not exactly painful in morph but certainly an annoyance. “Get off of that!” Trent growls, thrashing.

                “Nope.” Conner says cheerfully.

                Kira pushes a button. Nothing happens. She pushes it again. Still nothing. Trent idly considers smashing her head into a nearby wall, just because he needs to smash something, kill something.

                “Crap.” Kira says.

                “It’s not working, is it.” Ethan asks.

                “Okay, guys. Plan B!” Conner says cheerfully. “Beam us up, Hales!”

                “…The hell is Plan B?” Trent asks suspiciously.

                The world blurs into white. Then he…lands. And realizes that he must have teleported. The others jump off him, and Trent picks himself up.

                They’re in the rock quarry.

                Trent lets out a bellow of rage. “I was doing something!” He screams at them.

                “And now you’re fighting us.” Conner says, with all the smugness he gets when his plans work out.

                “You’ll thank us later.” Ethan says.

                Trent whips out his dagger. He is going to kill the lot of them. “Laser arrows!”

                They drop into ready stances.

                Trent lets go.

 

*             *             *

 

They do not, in fact, stop following him at school. So Trent skips school. He doesn’t particularly want to go anywhere; he just wants to get away from the lunatics who are apparently suicidal.

                Nothing happens. No Rangers, all day. He comes home and gets a truancy call from the school and his dad frowning at him.

                Skipping school isn’t optional, then.

                He goes the next day with the least possible grace. Trent is the White Dino Ranger, arbiter of destruction and bringer of death. He is not going to go to high school without a fight. But he goes, and at lunchtime they surround him again.

                “Dude, next time you want to skip, let me know.” Conner told him. “I know some cool places, we can hang.”

                Trent sneers. “Won’t your precious Black Ranger get upset? Oh wait…”

                Ethan shrugs. “Actually, he’ll just thank us for keeping an eye on you.” He holds up an Oreo. “Cookie?”

                Trent gives him a withering look.

                Ethan shrugs and pops the cookie into his mouth.

                “Eat something.” Kira reminds him. Softly. Like she still…cares.

                Trent looks at her, and doesn’t think how can I use this to my advantage. He…feels, instead. And takes a bite of his crappy cafeteria food. Because it makes her smile.

                Trent decides this is officially the weirdest day of his life.

 

*             *             *

 

Three days in, Trent steals a flower from someone’s garden and leaves it at Kira’s seat in English class. They share the class, so it’s…

                Not a thank you. Of course not. Because he’s not slowly getting used to having them, and it’s not nice to have random conversation going around him, and not kind of comforting to have three solid bodies reminding him that he won’t hurt anyone.

                That’s just annoying. Obviously.

                Four days in, Ethan grabs him after school—actually grabs his arm—and says, “Come on, we need to marathon video games.”

                “…Why.” Giving Kira the flower was a horrible idea. Now they all think Trent’s their friend. And that idea is horrible (and not soothing, not at all, not wonderful and perfect to a deep-seated part of him).

                “Because I bet you’ll feel better if you blow people up that way, and it has less of a body count.” Ethan says firmly.

                Trent sighs and goes along with it. “This is not going to work.”

                Ethan shrugs. “You’re a danger to yourself and others, give it a try.”

                He does. It doesn’t work. Conner walks in on the marathon, then tells Trent about punching bags that look like people. They go to the gym Conner likes, and Trent tries it out.

                “Think I can steal this?” Trent jokes.

                Conner and Ethan grin.

                Later, Trent reflects on his newly-stolen human-shaped punching bag, complete with fake blood bags so Trent can get the feel of blood, and grins.

                This is gonna be a great story someday.

 

*             *             *

 

Weirdly, it does help.

                Trent drops an old video game that Ethan’s been looking for on his head and steals a packet of super-chocolate cookies for Conner at the cafeteria. He doesn’t say thank you. He’s terrifying and they’re all lucky he’s accepting their pathetic offering of a punching bag in place of human life.

                Trent still doesn’t bother attacking until Mesegog directly orders him to.

 

*             *             *

 

Trent gets a phone call at nine at night when they get Dr. Oliver back. Conner is jumping around cheering.

                Trent gets a strange feeling a bit like dread.

                It is dread, he realizes the next morning; with Dr. Oliver back, even stuck in Black Ranger form, surely he’s going to tell the others to stop annoying Trent and start fighting him already. The idle conversations and shared video game marathons and Kira’s gentle touches, they’ll all go away.

                Trent remembers being alone. He’s always had a hard time making friends; he’s quiet and introverted and even now, with all the raw strength and power running through him, he really only talks to the Rangers.

                Trent freaks out for a few minutes, and then remembers: Hey. He’s a goddamn supervillain. If he wants to keep his friends, he can.

                He’ll just have to take out the Black Ranger.

                So he skips school—just the morning, he’ll come back—and drives down to Dr. Oliver’s house. It’s nice and hidden. Great place to commit a murder.

                He goes around the back to pick the lock, sees the Black Ranger, and freezes.

                Dr. Oliver’s head turns.

                “Hey, Trent.” He says aloud.

                Craaaap.

                “Want to come out of there? Hayley likes those bushes, that’s all.”

                Trent comes out slowly, awkwardly, trying to judge the best way to attack. He’s not morphed, that’s a problem. He needs to find a way to morph and not get attacked midway through.

                “Thought you’d be at school.” Dr. Oliver says mildly. He stays sitting on the steps.

                Trent grins. “I’m not always where I should be.” Maybe if he morphs while he’s running, he can summon his dagger and cut Dr. Oliver’s head off. Decapitation kills everything, right?

                Dr. Oliver shrugs. “All right.”

                Trent waits, but apparently that’s the entire sentiment. “What, no threats about staying away from your Rangers? Not gonna try to destroy me or something?”

                Dr. Oliver chuckles. “No. I know that’s pointless.” He considers Trent. “Do you know about the first Green Ranger?”

                “Yeah.” Trent admits. Where is this going?

                “That was me.”

                Trent’s estimation of Dr. Oliver shoots through the roof. Then he reconsiders. The Green Ranger wasn’t acting under his own power; Rita forced him to kill. This man is Dr. Oliver, and he’s weak, just like the rest of them.

                “My friends were terrified of me.” Dr. Oliver continues. “They weren’t even my friends at the time, actually. So I was locked inside myself, hoping someone would stop me, and I was alone.”

                Trent sneers. “Emo of you.”

                Dr. Oliver shrugs. “I’m just glad you don’t have to go through that. So no. You keep hanging out with the others. It’s helping all of you.” Dr. Oliver’s face is impossible to see, but Trent has the sudden, spooky feeling that he’s staring straight at him. “And when you’re ready to accept help, come to me. And I will do everything, everything in my power to help you. Okay?”

                …This has turned into a conversation Trent wants no part of. He flips Dr. Oliver off and turns to leave. No point killing him now, it would just upset his friends. Not in the fun way, either. He likes messing with them, but the drama just wouldn’t be worth it.

                “Trent.” Dr. Oliver calls after him.

                “What, want to sing Kumbaya?” Trent snorts.

                Dr. Oliver does that staring thing again. “This is not your fault, and none of us blame you for it.”

                Trent pulls out a knife and throws it at him. Dr. Oliver dodges. It lands in the wood of his house, and Dr. Oliver doesn’t even move.

                Trent runs like hell.

 

*             *             *

 

He grabs Kira by the arm, roughly, and she yanks her arm out of his grip. “Ow—Trent! Careful!”

                “Are you scared of me?” Trent demands.

                It’s hitting him now, why everyone is so nice. They aren’t scared. They don’t think he’s terrifying. He’s not the monster of their nightmares anymore. He’s weak.

                Kira blinks at him. “You want my honest answer?”

                “Yes.”

                Kira glances around, looking for people, then…looks away. “Yes. You terrify me.”

                Something in Trent’s heart unclenches. They fear him. They know he is powerful. He is respected. He doesn’t have to fight for that. “Then why do you keep annoying me?” He asks in a growl.

                Kira looks up at him, considering. After a minute, she says, “Because we’re your friends. And your teammates. And that means we stick together.”

                Trent blinks at her.

                “I mean, obviously we’d appreciate it if you stopped working for Mesegog.” Kira adds. “But we’re still your team. Even if you’re doing something we don’t like. That matters.” She looks like she’s going to say more, then glances away, biting her lower lip.

                Trent’s had enough knocks today, he can’t handle whatever other bullshit she’s about to throw at him. He turns and leaves. Spending the day with Mesegog’s goons is infinitely preferable to this circus.

                When he gets out to the car after ducking Elsa, he changes that idea. Being alone sounds great.

 

*             *             *

 

He lasts the rest of that afternoon, and then a full day, and then he can’t handle it anymore. He needs people. Needs to go and talk to someone at lunch, prank Conner, play video games, talk to Kira about poetry, do literally anything that doesn’t involve being on his own.

                When he walks into English class, he plonks into the seat next to Kira and revels in the fact that she is near. She, to her credit, just smiles and pushes a song snippet at him. “I had a new idea, wanna see?”

                He takes it, because he does.

 

*             *             *

 

Dr. Oliver’s in a coma.

                Trent sneaks in through the window. Everyone’s off fighting, but Trent doesn’t trust himself to morph. It’s been almost a month, and he’s starting to hate working for Mesegog, hate it with a passion. He just wants to spend time with his friends.

                But someone they love is dying, and he can’t do anything about it.

                Hayley looks up and blinks. Trent ignores her and stares at Dr. Oliver. He’s unmorphed, unconscious.

                He shouldn’t look that way, Trent feels suddenly. Fiercely. He’s only interacted with Dr. Oliver a few times since that first meeting, and every time, the man’s been annoying as hell. Calm and steady and compassionate, quick in battle but stopping the second Trent shows any sign of weariness or weakness. Acting to capture, not kill.

                He’s strong, Trent realizes. For anyone who’s not Trent, he’s pretty strong, and tough, and Trent doesn’t want him laying like this.

                “He’ll be fine.” Hayley says aloud.

                Trent snorts. “I don’t care.”

                Hayley says nothing. Her hand is locked around Dr. Oliver’s.

                After a minute, she says, “Talking is supposed to help. When people are in comas. I just…” She coughs, and Trent realizes she sounds hoarse.

                Trent sighs, because damnit, not again. He’s gonna have to help out the Power Posers, like always. He reaches out automatically, then stops himself. He’s not gonna do the hand-holding shit, he’s not five. “Hey. Black Ranger. Wake your ass up, your team needs you.”

                This does absolutely nothing.

                “Seriously, you’re a lazy-ass.” Hayley looks up, her gaze pointed and carrying hope and wonder and all kinds of things, but Trent ignores her. “I should make you a T-shirt with that on it. ‘I’m so lazy I let my team go into battle without me’. Seriously, Doc, I’m not gonna go save those posers. You’d better wake up soon, got it?”

                Nothing happens, again, but Trent feels like less of an idiot. He keeps going. “You know, Conner keeps asking about all the places Dad’s gone, on digs, but I think the best place I’ve ever been was the redwoods. We’re right next door, I don’t know why you guys don’t go, it’s literally an hour away. You’re idiots. All of you. The trees are huge, like they are bigger than cars huge. And the place looks like something out of a fairy tale…”

                He talks until Dr. Oliver twitches, and then he gets up from the crouch he was in and heads for the window.

                “Trent?” Hayley asks. “You can stay…”

                Trent snorts and leaves.

 

*             *             *

 

The next time Trent sees Dr. Oliver, it’s in school. Trent realizes, suddenly, that this is yet another Ranger who can follow him around.

                Dr. Oliver stops him in the hallway when he sees him, though, and Trent has no way to avoid him without everyone thinking he’s a dick. Which Trent wouldn’t mind, except Elsa would murder him. With a shoe. A really pointy shoe. Elsa wants to murder him half the time on a good day, he’s not gonna tempt fate there.

                “Trent. You doing okay?” Dr. Oliver asks, and he looks…earnest and eager and oh god, Trent is going to just punch him or something.

                “Yeah, look, I’ve got class…” Trent says with as little grace as he can manage without Elsa pulling off the shoe-murder.

                “Yeah, no, got it.” Dr. Oliver agrees. “I just wanted to say, thanks. For coming when I was in the hospital.”

                Trent raises an eyebrow. “You know I’m not actually one of you Power Posers, right?” He says quietly. “And if you start talking about feelings I’m gonna introduce Conner to weed.”

                Dr. Oliver chuckles. “Sure, sorry. Get to class.”

                Trent high-tails it out of there.

                Luckily, Dr. Oliver doesn’t appear the rest of the day. School day, that is. When Ethan and Trent go to Cyberspace to play video games, Dr. Oliver is hanging out there.

                Trent prepares for the urge to destroy.

                Luckily, Dr. Oliver is smart enough not to emote all over him. He just hangs out, as if he were…okay, not really a friend, but a friendly teacher. And he can explain how their biology homework works better than the teacher.

                Trent hangs out until his father actually calls on his cell phone to tell him to come home already.

                He catches the grin that flashes between Dr. Oliver and Hayley as he leaves, and wonders if you can return all your friends at the store or something.

 

*             *             *

 

Trent’s been hesitating before joining in battle lately.

                It’s not much, just a bit. But it means that when the Rangers are already fighting a monster, he doesn’t bother arguing himself into fighting. He’ll just take the winner. He stands back and waits and—

                A claw yanks him through an invisiportal, and he hits the ground hard.

                Trent leaps to his feet, because Mesegog is the only person he seriously respects as a fighter. Even Elsa is just annoying, but Mesegog is dangerous.

                “Take hhhhim.” Mesegog orders, and Tyrannodrones flock around Trent.

                He’s been fighting Tyrannodrones for over a month now, but there are too many of them, they overwhelm him and a few lucky grabs have him lifted off his feet and carried into the dentist’s chair. They strap him down despite his struggles.

                “Ssso. The traiitor returnssss.” Mesegog hisses.

                “I’m not a traitor!” Trent yells. “What are you—“

                Mesegog flashes a copy of his dagger at him. “You…leftthisss. Whhen you…desstroyedmy experimentssss.”

                …That actually sounds hilarious, and Trent totally should have thought of it, but he sadly did not. He glances around. It’s not what Trent would have thought of, switching which jars the preserved animal corpses are in or turning up the temperature on a petri dish. Everything’s just smashed. Much less hilarious. Trent was betting it was Zeltrax.

                Then Mesegog flipped a switch.

                The pain was incredible. Trent’s body thrashed, instinctively trying to fight it, but the energy being sucked away was coming from him, from his own life force. “Dad! Dad, please, stop, it’s me…” Trent was cut off by a fresh wave of pain. “Dad, please!”

                Mesegog laughed.

                Trent started to slow down. The power that ran through him like fire was being sucked away, and it left exhaustion in its wake, exhaustion and emptiness replacing it.

                “Dad…please…”

                Trent couldn’t quite see what was happening. But something was. Something with light and changing shapes and—

                His dad knocked the machine away.

                A blast of energy shot free, ricocheting around the room. It hit Trent’s wrist, and—

                …he blinked. His dad was saying something.

                He felt…normal.

                Lower than he’d been before. The wild insanity was gone, replaced with nothing, and he was laying there helplessly, blinking as his father pulled away the bonds.

                “Dad? I…” Trent sat up, and his dad caught him. “I think I’m…I’m me again.”

                His dad smiled. “Good. Take the morpher. Go do some good with it. Please, son.”

                Trent nodded slowly.

                His dad grabbed his head, crying out. “Dad!” Trent fell to his knees. There was something he could do, there had to be—

                “No! Get out of here!” His dad shouted.

                “The Rangers, they can help—“ They could help. Dr. Oliver’s offer flew through Trent’s mind.

                “No!” His dad gasped out.

                …On the one hand, Trent could interpret that as ‘no Rangers’, which was what it probably meant. On the other, his dad shouted ‘no’ at Mesegog a lot. It was an understandable mistake.

                And he’d just had four people try to help him through everything he’d just gone through. If the Rangers could do that for him, could help him even if they couldn’t free him, surely they could help his father, too.

                “Don’t worry, Dad.” Trent said, a very determined gleam in his eye. “I’ve got this.”

                “Go…” Anton gasped out.

                Trent ran.

 

*             *             *

 

Trent finished his story. Awkward silence descended.

                Then Kira walked over to him and threw her arms around him. The guys hesitated, then Conner practically glomped Trent, and Ethan slung his arms around the three of them.

                “You…you guys still…” Trent stammered. “I tried to kill you! I…I could have…” He could have taken every bit of help they’d given him and screwed them over. He could have destroyed them, from the inside out.

                “Dude, that wasn’t you.” Conner said.

                “If you run away now I will hunt you down.” Kira threatened, her head buried in Trent’s shoulder.

                “Yeah, I’ll help.” Ethan added.

                “Don’t worry, Trent.” Dr. Oliver’s hand was on Trent’s back, now. “We’ll help your father. I promise. I should’ve seen this coming, honestly…”

                “And in the meantime, you are going to go upstairs and sleep.” Hayley said. “Come on, guys, get off him.” They pulled away, Conner pretending he hadn’t just glomped Trent for the sake of his dignity. “You. Upstairs, go.”

                Trent listened. He was too stunned to do anything else. Kira fell into step beside him, taking his hand, and oh, that was nice. He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “I’m sorry.” He said aloud.

                Conner smacked his head. “Dude. Was that you?”

                “No!” Trent yelped.

                “Then knock it off.”

                “Yeah, I’m with Tomato here.” Ethan said. “Also, I’m going to introduce you to my little sister, she gives everyone weird nicknames and you need one.”

                “Is that why we’re calling Conner Tomato this week?” Trent asked. “Because that one kind of confused me.”

                “You’ll understand when you meet her.” Kira reassured him with a grin. “I’m Toothpick. I think she misunderstood what a guitar pick is.”

                “Go to bed.” Hayley scolded.

                Trent felt the whirlwind of his friends around him, and decided that was the wrong word.

                This was his family.